The First Zombie

The radio was on as Doctor Thomas Sentry pulled out of his garage and headed into the lab. “Hurricane Zelda is expected to make landfall tomorrow night, crossing the southern tip of Florida and tearing up Cuba again. It has been a heck of a season and the people of south Florida are going into the frying pan after getting out of the fire from Yvonne two weeks ago.” Thankfully music replaced the droning weather commentary, some U2 song about global warming.

The good doctor was a middle aged man, just south of forty years old and he looked it. His hairline was receding rapidly and what he had was kept cut short using a set of ancient hair clippers in his own bathroom. Thomas ate sporadically and was skinny, not a healthy thin work was his life blood and pleasure such as fine food and drink were consumed only when meeting with those who had money to fund his project. When he was in the confines of his home he wore gold framed thin glasses, however on days he worked in the clean part of the lab, like today, he work contact lenses that seemed to make his light brown eyes a shade darker. He would almost be handsome, at six feet tall he had the height to be a leading man, were it not for his pale, almost vampiric skin color.

Dr. Sentry grinned to himself, thinking about how he was going to change everything about global warning very soon. If his experiment worked, and he was sure it would, the human race was going to be entering a new phase of its existence. His cell phone rang, playing 'Ring of Fire' by Johnny Cash, he answered it halfway through humming the song in his mind.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Sentry? Where are you?”, asked Doctor Heather Wilkins, his assistant and second in command at the lab.

“On my way in, everything go well last night?”, he asked.

“Yes doctor, as planned no mutations at all. It is stable Doctor! You know what this means?”

“We are going to be very rich?”

“Hm, yes well that too, but the trial can proceed. We've got a volunteer prepped and waiting, Vic Launders. He won the draw of the three of them. He is pretty excited about it too. A chance to outlive his sentence and a chance to start over.”

“Yes, yes, I can't stand the man myself, but he is the ideal candidate, I admit. He is ready now?”

“I am only waiting for you Doctor, I thought you deserved to make the injection yourself.”

“I look forward to it. I will be there in ten minutes, can you wait that long Heather?”

“Of course Tom! But hurry!”

The Lazarus laboratory (incorporated), had been funding Dr. Sentry's work for nine years, a long wait to get to this point, where human trials could begin. The work was an open secret in the science world, completely funded by private donations to seek out the reasons for and to stop the aging process. The first phase called for three volunteers. The local prison had a wide variety of candidates, so the company had set up some criteria to weed some people out. Unfortunate it was not a coed prison so the volunteers were all men. First the volunteers had to be as non-violent as possible, second they had to have been sentenced to more years in prison than they could conceivably live and they had to agree that they would get no consideration from the program in regards to their volunteer work. These criteria were in addition to not on medications currently and that they had to be in fair or better health.

If the treatment worked they would serve their remaining sentence completely. In Vic's case he was the least violent of the three prisoners, he had assaulted an officer when he was being arrested on securities fraud charges, but he had no prior record. The evidence of his fiduciary malfeasance was overwhelming, he was found guilty of a variety of crimes using money that was supposed to be invested in solid, low interest, low risk funds and that was actually used to fund, among other things, importing drugs from south American companies.

The exceptional thing in his case was that he did not lose any money for his clients, they all made the safe, stable, rate of return he had guaranteed them. Vic, on the other hand, made hundreds of millions, he was too successful and that is how he was caught. Sentenced to almost one hundred and twenty years of non-consecutive time in prison the man had jumped at the opportunity to live forever. The rumors that Vic had some money stashed away were all too true as well, he had shunted close to fifty million dollars into Doctor Sentry's private accounts (all well hidden) to assure himself a place in the top three candidates. This small complication could probably be traced back to Vic if the man wanted to do so, but if he did, he would be revealing that he did hide money away when he had denied it at his trial.

'Such is the price of doing business these days', thought Thomas, who planned on using the money to continue his efforts if his funding were ever cut. Making sure Vic was the number one candidate took almost no effort on Thomas's part, while it was a risk, if the man died, it also would not be a terrible blow either. If Vic died during the testing the money he had given Sentry would have complication removed from it, if he lived the experiment would be a success. A win in either respect.

Ten minutes later he pulled past the security guards at the front gate and into the parking garage at the lab. Working every day for the past two and a half years, driving from his garage to the company garage had made the good doctor pale, he could not even remember the last time he had gone outside for anything other than a perfunctory trip across the parking lot to go into a grocery store. Dr. Sentry had a maid who used a food allowance to buy most things, but she came down firmly on the side of natural foods, so periodically the doctor had to visit the store himself to buy a secret stash of junk food and real coffee and non-organic cream. If the maid had not been so accommodating in dealing with Dr. Sentry's physical needs he would have replaced her. Now it seemed like too much bother to interview and seduce another maid to take her place.

As he got out of his car and headed towards the employee entrance of the secured building he passed another guard station.

“Good morning Doctor Sentry.” said Gabe the head of security who had been here the last seven years. Gabe was an older man, in his mid fifties, he had no weight on him except for a small beer belly. Gabe's head had less hair than that of the good doctor, and his was a silver gray color too. The man squinted a bit when he read, but wore no glasses, only a crisp, clean uniform with a massive looking pistol in a holster on his belt.

“'morning Gabe!”, Thomas called as he moved by, “Gotta big day ahead of me in the lab, it should be earth shattering, if all goes as planned.”

“Glad to hear it, let me know when you need an old fart like me to test on.” Gabe said. Gabe, having risen to the head of security knew what the goal of the company was, even if he didn't understand how it was supposed to come about.

“Will do Gabe, I think I am close.”

“Good. And good luck today too.”

Although he did not believe luck would play a role in today's test, he nodded jovially at the guard. Gabe was a big believer in luck and the man could have been a professor of ancient Egyptian civilizations, had he chosen to be. The man could speak for hours, or semesters, about the long dead dieties and seemed fascinated in particular about their creation myths. The Egyptian Og-doad was his specialty within the over arching myths and culture. Sentry had made the mistake of thinking the security guard just had a cursory knowledge of the subject, so he had boned up on trivia about the field and started a conversation with Gabe one day. That day turned into a night of drinking and philosophizing in Thomas's office, with both men coming away with a profound respect for the other. Gabe was no doctor, at least not of medicine, however he should have been a professor and the mere bachelor's degree he held in anthropology was far beneath his actual knowledge in the field.

Thomas went through the second door as Gabe buzzed it open and was met there by Heather, she had a clip board in her hand and was, in Thoma's eyes, giddy. She was hopping from foot to foot, rocking back and forth excitedly. Dr Wilkins suffered that curse of most middle aged woman, she was losing the battle of the bulge. Her sandy blond hair was also thinning already and she wore it long and usually kept it tied back behind her head and out of the way. With her sharp blue eyes and almost perfect height of five foot six she had probably been a knockout in her early twenties. Thomas, as wrapped up in his work as he was, didn't know if she were married, had kids or virtually anything else about her except that she was an exceptional researcher, not just his right hand, but his right arm. The thought of asking about her outside life had never occurred to Dr. Sentry.

“Today is going to be the day. I know it.” Heather said.

“Of course, it is not like we haven't put our time in, is it?”

“The sacrifices are worth it. Everlasting life, it will make the last eight years look like nothing. Especially when we are a thousand years old. What will eight years be to us then?”

“Of course there will be other complications, eternal life is not necessarily one free from disease or hardship. We will have more time to deal with those problems, I hope. Lets get cleaned up and I will meet you in room one in five minutes.”

Thomas Sentry moved into the men's room that led into the clean room, while Heather moved into the women's room to do the same thing. Despite having showered and shaved at home he followed procedure to the letter and again stripped naked, washed completely with an anti bacterial soap, then slathered on an alcohol based sterile gel before stepping into the second half of the room to have it rinsed off by a separate water supply and then be blown dry by hundred and twenty degree heat. Finally he moved to the clothing room and picked up his gowns and his internal security badge to wear before stepping into the clean room. Once there he waited only a few moments for Heather to come out and join him. Once they were in the lab proper they moved down the hall to room one, where Vic was already prepped and ready.

“Hiya docs!”, Vic said to them as they entered room one. The man was Caucasian, stood about five foot ten inches tall and was fit, not just just thin. His skin was still somehow brown, as if he had just come in from the beach. His hands stood out due to his long fingers, perfect for making transfers using a keyboard and computer. The top of his head sported a choppy prison haircut that didn't do his glossy brown hair justice. His almond colored eyes seemed to size up everyone he met, getting there measure instantly. The man always seemed to be looking for angles, for edges, ways to turn any situation to his advantage.

The room he was in was square with a single door leading into the hallway in the clean section. There were large rectangular windows set into two walls, one was towards the clean room side, looking into the hallway, the other opened into the main part of the building into an observation room, which was currently crowded with assistants and other people who had helped get the project to this point. Curtains hung on both walls in front of the windows and in both cases they were fully opened, allowing view into and out of the room.

Vic was, by requirement, handcuffed to the stainless steel bed and his ever present guard was there as well. The bed had to be custom made and sterilized after the decision to use prisoners had been finalized. That was one of the pains of dealing with Vic 'Half Billion' Launders, the state required he be handcuffed and supervised at all times. The office had three cells, the equivalent of solitary confinement cells, one for each prisoner. The cells were not in the clean section of the building and the clinic was actually certified as a private prison with a head count of three. This had meant the addition of several employees just to keep watch on the prisoners and to see for their care, however this was far better than having to wait for transportation to and from the prison every day. Vic had already served six months of his sentence at Lazarus offices, the man's only comments about the arrangement were to say the food was better and he liked having a cable television to himself.

Thomas moved up to Vic's side and said, “So today is the big day? Are you ready?”

“I was ready three months ago. I know you have to keep asking me, but I am ready, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

“Good.”, said Thomas, “I do need to remind you that you can cancel this volunteer duty at any time up to my injecting you with the formula...”, looking at a monitor he read off the series number outloud, “series thirteen point two four three 'F' six 'A'. Do you agree to be injected with this drug for experimental reasons, understanding that the consequences could range from absolutely nothing on one extreme to your death on the other?”

“Yes, I do. Get on with it doc.”, said Vic.

“Formalities Vic, we have to follow procedure.”

“I understand that, what is next then?”

“The injection.”

Vic nodded. “Finally! Should I be laying down?”

“However you can relax the best. Now, as I have explained in prepping you for this procedure, you may not notice any effect from the treatment right away, it could be days or even weeks or months before we can tell scientifically that something has happened. It might be longer before we know what has happened, if the experiment was success or not.”

“I know, I understand that.” said Vic as he hopped up on to the table and adjusted his gown over his legs. He waved at the other researchers, then lay back on the table. Heather moved forward and raised one armrest on the side and prepped Vic's arm, although technically already sterilized, she went through the motions again and then presented Thomas with a clean arm.

Heather had prepared the syringe before Thomas arrived that morning, almost as soon as she had known the culture of bio-medicine was functioning as designed. Thomas picked up the syringe and approached Vic's arm.

“Ready?”, he asked one last time.

“Do it.” Vic said.

Thomas found a vein and injected the medicine into Vic's body. Stepping back, he asked, “Any reactions?”

“No, nothing. Just like I was giving blood or getting a vaccination. No big deal at all.”

Through the glass the muffles of a cheer was heard.

“Looks like the geek squad is happy.” turning towards them Vic gave them a half hearted wave, “Here I go a brave pioneer into worlds unknown, and you all made it possible, so you have my thanks. And you too doc, I know this is your baby.”

'The man was a manipulator, no doubt he would have thanked his executioner before entering the gas chamber.' thought Thomas.

“Heart rate increased.” Heather called out.

“Just the excitement of the big day, I bet.” said Thomas.

They both watched as Vic's heart rate shot up, soon the man was laying back on the bed, with beads of sweat coming off of his forehead.

“Docs, I ain't complaining, but I am not feeling so great right now.”

“Just realax Vic, an elevated heart rate does not mean much. Heather prepare the antidote.” said Thomas.

“Yes doctor Sentry.”, Heather said, her tone unreadable.

“There is an antidote?” asked Vic.

“Of course.”, Thomas lied, “You don't think we want something bad to happen to you. The treatment and the chemical to stop its progress were developed at the same time.” This was not a literal truth, the 'antidote', in theory could only stop further changes from being made, it could not reverse any damage caused up until it was used.

“So I am going to be okay?”

“Yes Vic, you are going to be fine.”

“Heart rate backing down.” Heather droned tonelessly.

“See? Just nerves. You sit tight and think happy thoughts. There is no pain, right?”

“No. I feel a little uncomfortable. More tired than anything.”

“You feel tired? Vic the treatment is fundamentally changing the way your body works, I think you will feel a little tired, at the very least. Now we are not going anywhere, today is all about monitoring you and getting your feedback on what is happening to you, so keep talking, okay?”

Vic's guard shifted his feet, giving Thomas a strange look with his eyes above his surgical mask. That look spoke volumes. Vic had gotten to the guard. Somehow. The man subverted everyone around him, as Thomas could well attest to. Thomas would have to investigate the link later, to find out what deal the two had made, no doubt it was some sort of safety measure to make sure Thomas didn't get away free and clear in the event of Vic's death. People like Vic did things like that, or so Thomas suspected, another thing he should have anticipated.

Other than the brief heart racing right after the injection Vic seemed fine through the morning. At lunch they had to bring Vic out of the clean area, it was not possible to stay in the sterilized environment for too long, human needs required breaks for defecation and eating, needs even Doctor Sentry was not immune to. Heather had departed to her office to get a few hours of sleep mid morning, once Vic's heart rate had dropped back to normal. She was not due to return until six that evening, Thomas knew he would see her before then, just as he knew he would not be going home that evening either.

Vic's lunch was simple, plain even, however an hour after eating it, he vomited it all up. There was no nausea preceding the event, he just leaned over and threw up onto the floor of his room. Thomas called for some broth and crackers to be brought in and check the man's vital statistics against those they had taken from him over the last few months. They were low. No where near dangerously low, but lower than expected. The afternoon passed and Vic kept down the small amount of broth and crackers he had been given. True to form Heather showed up by four and Thomas took a brief break around that time to take care of his own food needs from the company kitchens. Most of the fellow researchers had gone home by four thirty, four of the crew had been scheduled late to help with monitoring or clean up as the evening warranted.

Vic ate little of the meal brought to him by the staff, however he kept what he did eat down. His vital signs continued their slow decline and eventually Thomas was beckoned out into the hallway by Heather to discuss the situation.

“He is degrading mentally.” Heather began without preamble.

“I have noticed, he cannot carry on a conversation anymore. The 'antidote' would do him no good now, the damage is done.”, Heather knew this, but for once in his life Dr Sentry was at a loss of words.

Heather noted the uncharacteristic blurb and said, “I know that doctor, but if his vital signs keep dropping he is going to die. We have to plan for that.”

“How do we plan for that? If the subject dies the state will yank the others back, the work of years will be down the drain, it will be the loss of....everything we have worked for.”

“Vic had no documented health problems. Could there be something we missed? A heart condition perhaps?” Heather began.

Grasping at the straw she was insinuating Thomas said, “Perhaps. Can we do this?”

“This will work.” Heather said referring to the treatment, “I know it will work. We have to salvage what we can and move on. I won't waste another decade of my life to rebuild when we can continue. I won't and I don't think we have to.”

Thomas thought about what she was saying, then nodded, “Would a review support that finding?”

“Absolutely. It is a blind spot in the tests we administered. Something we didn't think to test for and the drug had an...unforeseeable reaction with his condition, had we known we would have accounted for it, or used another subject.”

Doctor Sentry's eyes widened as he mentally went over the procedures they had used to screen candidates. Doctor Wilkins had left the 'hole' in their screening on purpose, no doubt for just such an occasion as this one. “You!”, he began, his temper rising, the 'hole' could be the first of many and without strict control they had a more difficult time predicting the outcome of the treatment. “You did this on purpose!”

“Shush Doctor. I have no idea what you are talking about. It is only now, that I realize I...we, should have been more cognizant of what the medications could do to someone with a possible heart condition.” Her eyes held the look of innocent, “Now that I have said the words you will need to repeat to review board I suggest you do things, first alter the formula so it will not kill our subjects and second show a little goddamned gratitude that I am as dedicated to this project as you are.”

“But the holes you left in the screening are there! They are holes! The test subjects could react wildly to the...”

Heather raised her index finger and placed it over Doctor Sentry's lips, pressing them closed. It was the first time since he shook her hand at her interview that they had touched. “By necessity that is the case. You are not so foolish to actually believe that such a condition would cause the failure of our procedure are you? Or are you telling me that your formula will leave out a large minority of the people of the world who will be clamoring for it?”

Thomas, felt the air go out of his argument, what Heather said was true, an existing heart condition would have very little impact on any part of the procedure's process. They could slant it that way and continue the research after one explainable failure or he could move his operations elsewhere and start using the money Vic gave him. Although he had no particular attachment to money, he was loathe to spend his own until he absolutely needed to. He nodded his head, “Okay, we do it your way. Someone has to be accountable for the oversight.”

“Yes, someone high up, this is not a problem an assistant could be held for. I do not trust anyone except myself to carry this out correctly. It will be me Thomas.”

“You could be revoked.”

“Not with your support and a letter attempting to accept the blame for this poor man's death yourself.”

“It will work.”

“I know it will. Now go to bed and let me watch this man die. Think of phase two and what needs to be done to prevent this from happening again.” Heather left him standing alone in the hallway as she went back in to stand at Vic's side along with the second shift security officer.

“Wake up Thomas!”, a voice called him, “Doctor wake up!”

Doctor Sentry was napping on the cot in his office and the persistent voice would not quite down, finally he began to awaken. Heather was beside him, she was leaning over his body, but was not touching him.

“Wake up doctor! There has been a complication.”, she said.

“Yes?”, he asked sleepily, “What is it?”

“Vic's vital signs are dropping, I believe you should attend him.”

“I am up, I will be there in a moment.” Thomas said.

Heather nodded silently and backed away from him. “Hurry.”

Thomas quickly got up, straightened his lab coat and slipped on his shoes. He went into the hall and Heather was waiting for him.

“We discussed this, right?”

“All a formality Thomas, now I can testify as to what I told you and when, it will not be a lie.”

“It will not come to that.”, he said.

“As you say.”, Heather turned and headed back to Vic's room, with Thomas following a few paces behind her, shaking the last vestiges of sleep form his head.

Upon entering the room Thomas noted the night guard was agitated. He was a normal looking man, with a bulk of muscles, coated with a softening layer of fat. His dark hair was receding and he looked to be about thirty five. His dark blue uniform was company issued and modeled to look similar to the prison guard uniforms. The man was on steroids. Dr. Sentry knew this, he prescribed them himself, his name was...Dan, shaking his head again Thomas thought, 'I have to keep this together.' Dan, at least, was a known quantity and firmly in Dr. Sentry's court, he could not have asked for a better witness than this particular guard.

“What is the status?” Thomas asked no one in particular. In addition to Dan there were two night attendants in the room, nurses, one male and one female. Vic looked pale, his hospital gown was soaked through in sweat, his face shined with oil and his eyes had sunk back into his head. He had an IV in one arm, dripping a steady fluid into him and his handcuffs had been removed.

Heather answered Thomas's question, “He tanked about fifteen minutes ago, his vital signs are diminishing at a an alarming rate, spiking up every few minutes, then dropping down to near zero. We are standing by to revive him as needed, but unless we can do something about the injection I think this is a temporary measure at best.”

“Has he been lucid? Said anything?”

“Nothing, he spoke last a few hours after dinner, something about how things didn't seem to be working out as planned.” the male nurse said, the tall blond man's name tag read 'Tad'. Thomas hated that name, it seemed contrived to him, fake and pompous.

Brusquely he said, “So we wait.”

“Should we inject the antidote?”

“It will do little..”, Thomas paused, the nodded, “Of course, Dr Wilkins, please do so.”

Heather went to a locked glass cabinet, unlocked it and brought forth an ampule which both she and Thomas knew would do absolutely nothing for Vic. She handed it to the female nurse, 'Mandy', who took it and prepared a syringe. Thomas nodded to her and she injected it into Vic's IV. The only sound in the room was Vic's labored breathing and the steady ticking of a heart monitor. The monitor slowed down once, then more, then stopped. Thomas waited a moment, holding up a hand. Three seconds passed, the monitor beeped again, then rapidly sped up. Vic leaned forward in his bed, his eyes, still open, seemed almost lucid and he took in his surroundings, looking at the people in the room until his eyes fell on Sentry.

His voice was like boulders grinding together as he said, “I've seen it! I've seen it Doctor. I will see you soon too you son of a bitch!” Vic then started coughing and thrashed from one side to another, before finally laying back on the bed once more. The heart monitor began to slow down again, this time when it stopped it did not restart.

The medical personal tried everything to get Vic's heart started again, to no avail. After fifteen minutes of frantic effort Heather stopped them all by saying, “Call it doctor Sentry. Call a time of death.”

The nurses backed off a step and Thomas looked at the clock and said, “Time of death four oh six am, whats the date?”

“February fourteenth.” Tad said.

“Valentine's Day? Already?”, Thomas said, “Time of death four oh six am on February fourteenth.” He stepped back from the body and thought of what he needed to do next. Heather, thinking more clearly sent the nurses out to start the paperwork, but stayed in the room herself. Dan, ever present, stood awkwardly near the body, as if by standing there he was still doing his job.

Thomas started to speak, but stopped as the heart monitor made a sound. It was not a beep, but more like the sound of water rushing through a hose, a continuous rushing sound, static. Heather turned irritated and shut the machine off. Thomas distracted by the machine did not see what happened next. Dan yelled, drawing their attention back towards the body. Vic had sat up and was staring at them, his eyes an opaque blur, his right hand was holding Dan's wrist tightly, the muscles on both men's arms were standing out with the strain.

Sentry stood his ground, Heather took a step back, then another. Vic pulled the guards wrist towards his mouth, which opened wide. Dan resisted and pulled Vic off the bed.

“Let go Vic! Let the hell go of me!” Dan bellowed. Vic hit the floor but his grip did not budge, he was on his knees now looking up at Dan with an emotionless face. He again sought to pull the other man's hand into his mouth. Dan swung his right hand around in a punch that rocked Vic's head back, once, twice, three times and Vic didn't let go or stop fighting. Dan fumbled back to pull out his police style baton. As he did so Vic employed his other hand and grasped Dan's belt. The baton got caught up in the leather straps, delaying Dan for a brief moment that was all Vic needed. His teeth pressed forward into Dan's stomach, teeth closing on the belly fat through his shirt.

“Doctor!”, Heather said, some strain in her voice, “We should get help!”

“Yes, yes of course.” Thomas said, watching the red stain spread on Dan's shirt.

Dan got his baton clear and swung it around to hit Vic in the back, a blow that had to break ribs, but the man seemed to feel nothing. Vic pushed Dan back into some medical equipment and then into the wall. Dan kept hitting him, switching to hit Vic's arm.

“I am going for help!”, Heather said, leaving Sentry to watch the fight.

Dan shoved the baton between his stomach and Vic's mouth, Vic bit down on it, the sound of breaking teeth or possibly wood echoed through the room. Leaving the baton there Dan simultaneously lifted Vic up by the neck with his left hand, while his right hand reached for a cannister of pepper spray.

'He is trying not to kill him.' Thomas thought to himself, wondering why Dan didn't just grab his gun.

Vic was up at eye level, he spit out the baton, revealing blood stained, broken teeth. Dan barely held him off with one arm. Vic brought his arms around Dan grasping his shoulders and squeezing him in close. Dan used pepper spray on him, the stream of liquid was well pressured, splattering off Vic's face and back into Dan's. Dan screamed and the pepper spray stream swung wide, hitting Doctor Sentry in the hand and splattering his lab coat belly.

'It is a chemical reaction, designed to make me think it is burning, nothing is burning. I am okay.' Thomas told himself, not allowing himself to react to the chemicals.

Dan was not so fortunate, he starting screaming, “Help me! Sentry! Help me!”

Thomas looked around for a weapon, then stopped himself, a weapon? What would he do with a weapon? They had security personal for that, where were they?

Vic was not affected by the spray in the slightest and he moved his head in towards Dan's neck, biting him there and holding on like a tick.

Dan screamed again, “Help me! Someone help me!”

Doctor Sentry took a step backward, towards the door. Dan's hand came away from his face and pushed off the wall while swing wildly at Vic's body, his eyes were open, going bloodshot from the chemicals, as was his face. Glancing down Doctor Sentry found his hand had become red as well, interesting.

Vic fell over backward, somehow bringing Dan down on top of him. He shifted his head to get a better grip on Dan's neck and Dan pulled away, his eyes now swollen shut. Holding one hand to his throat he tried to push himself up with his other, Vic simply turned and bit the supporting wrist, a loud crack shot through the room as the man's wrist was cracked.

Dan screamed again and fell back on top of Vic, he threw his weight to the side and tried to roll away from the other man, to no avail. Vic held onto the wrist and continued biting it as the other man screamed.

Thomas stood and watched why Dan bled out on the floor of the room, the tile was a mess of bloody streaks and pools from the struggle. It was simply amazing to him that so much damage could happen in so short of a time.

Dan was pressed up against the bed and Vic worked his way up from the wrist back to his neck, the guard struggled slowly, sluggishly and to no avail. Thomas stood and watched as Vic killed the man. Vic then slowly stood and turned to face Thomas, his eyes were not quite so opaque as before, he seemed more alert somehow, as if feasting on Dan had given him some sort of energy burst. Thomas stood his ground, bringing up his pepper sprayed hand in front of him in a futile gesture of resistance while he took another step back towards the door.

Vic stepped towards Thomas, arms out in front of him. Just before impact an armored man in a security helmet and uniform brushed by Thomas and slammed into Vic, forcing him all the way back onto the bed.

Another man followed, then a third, all hastily dressed in riot gear. They forced Vic back onto the bed, staying well clear of the man's teeth. The beds were actually prison standard, they had areas on them to bind prisoner's hands with restraints or, in this case, handcuffs. The three men working in unison cuffed one, then the other of Vic's hands, then ran a restraining strap over his head, binding it to the bed, they worked quickly and secured his waist, then his legs. When they stepped back Dan started moving.

Thomas took a step forward, to see what he could do for the man. Dan immediately surged forward and grappled with one of the men in riot gear. They push him back and warned him off, but Dan did not listen. 'His wound, his neck wound is not gushing, it is more like an open sore, leaking very little. It should be gushing.' Thomas thought to himself.

Tad and Mandy came back into the room, they had gloves and masks on and watched wide eyed as the other guards grappled with and subdued Dan, using their last pair of handcuffs to get his arms behind his back.

“What do we do doc?”, asked a tired looking guard, Thomas noted it was Gabe, from earlier.

“Put Dan in the room next to this one. Bind him like Vic until we figure out what we can do for them.”

Heather came in with a clipboard, she peeked over it to look at Vic. “Is he, is he alive?”

“I don't know, he moves, so that is good right?”, said Thomas. “Be careful there!” he warned Tad, “Whatever he has he seems to have given to Dan, by biting him, it might be passed in the blood too.”

Tad looked down at his white sneakers, which were on top of the bloody mess on the floor. He eased back towards the doctors and Mandy.

“What do we do?” he asked.

“Lets run tests, Heather can you gather some samples of the blood on the floor? I will need blood from both Vic and Dan too. The blood on the floor should be Dan's before he was infected, so it should give us a good starting point for him. Of course we have Vic's blood on file form before the treatment as well, we will run a comparison and see what is different.”

Heather shrugged and gathered the necessary equipment before sending the nurses to try and get a blood sample from Dan.

Fifteen minutes later the Sentry was looking at samples from the before and after blood and making 'tsk-tsk' sounds as he switched the samples back and forth. “Interesting.” he said to himself as Heather looked on.

“What is interesting?”

“The blood could have come from two different sources, this stuff is the 'after' and it is not blood, not as we know it. Or knew it I should say. I want a complete analysis of both samples and I want it yesterday.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I think we might be closer than I thought to reversing cellular senescence, I need the analysis to confirm this and additional samples will need to be tested, of course. Over time especially.”

“I agree, I have brought you Dan's employee file.”

“Oh, um yes. Next of kin?”

Heather shook her head, “None in the state.”

“Hobbies, friends? Who is his emergency contact?”

“Hobbies include drinking alcohol on his nights off and weightlifting, he fraternizes with the other guards is only marginally liked and could be missing for weeks before anyone noticed he was gone.”

“Weeks?”

“Possibly months.”

Sentry's face lit up in a smile and he nodded, “That is good. Very good. What about the staff who witnessed, the..events today?”

“Undergoing debriefing with me, and you, at the end of their normal work shift. I have Dan secured in the room next to Vics'. There is no one involved in the project who knows everything that is supposed to be happening. I am going to spin this as a normal, desired result of our study, Dan, due to his hapless ineptitude became contaminated inside of Vic's room. I will be implementing a class 'A' series of restrictions to enter either patient's room until we can get a handle on things.”

“Class 'A'? Won't that make gathering the samples more difficult?” Class A was a head to toe bio-shield suit with an independent air supply.

“Only for a week. We need them to think there was a setback and that we are concerned, but not that there was an error beyond repair. I will remind them of their non-disclosure agreements and provide them with hazard pay for today and every other day they work in the class 'A' environment.”

“Say that is good, very good! It will cost us more, but they won't talk, not at triple pay. Do it. I will provide a suitable speech on how progress has been made here today. Also the prison system will eventually need to be notified of the success or failure of the project.”

“Months, they check on Vic once a month, the last check was just before he took the the serum. We have twenty eight days until the next checkup and if we go back to class A and explain the reasons why the inspector will probably be content just to look through the observation area. We can tell them Vic is sleeping.”

“Then we will need to find a way to sedate them. That will be our first priority. This is going to work and if we have made the jump I think we have then we are much closer to eternal life than I imagined I would be at this stage.”

Heather nodded and smiled to herself as Sentry went off to his office, no doubt to prepare his speech for the staff, he was nothing if not prepared. Slipping a digital voice recorder out of her pocket she whispered the time and date into it and turned it off before tucking it away again.

More to follow as time permits!

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This section was last updated on 20 MAR 2010

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